My Lady Lyanna
by Queen of Ice and Winter
Summary: "I love you and I always will, my lady Lyanna." Love was poison to knights of the Kingsguard. Falling in love was dangerous – falling in love with King Robert's wife? For eleven years, Ser Jaime Lannister loved Lyanna Stark and she loved him back. Oneshot.


MY LADY LYANNA

* * *

The further away from King's Landing the royal party were, the brighter and happier the queen seemed to be. From his place near the royal wheelhouse, Jaime Lannister was a hawk, watching the queen as often as he could. When King Robert Baratheon the First of His Name announced his intention to ride to Winterfell to name his good-brother and best friend Lord Eddard Stark his new Hand, it was the first time in days that Jaime saw a smile appear on the queen's face.

Noticing his stare, Queen Lyanna Stark nudged her white palfrey to a gentle trot. "You were looking at me again," she murmured as Jaime rode up to her. "I don't think knights of the Kingsguard are supposed to look at the king's wife like that."

"Like what?" Jaime couldn't resist whispering.

The queen rolled her eyes. "Like a lovesick fool."

"But I am a lovesick fool. A lovesick fool that will follow you anywhere."

The queen arched an eyebrow. "More like a lovesick fool that is bound to the vows he had sworn to the king, my _husband_." She emphasised the last word with great bitterness. Jaime bit his lip and looked away. For fifteen years, he was forced to watch the king view his queen firstly as the maiden of his dreams, then the prize he won from war, thirdly a broodmare and lastly a beautiful statue. Jaime's heart ached for Lyanna Stark. It seemed the gods had decided throughout Jaime's career as a knight of the Kingsguard, he was to play the part of unwilling witness and a helpless knight. When it was the Mad King who ruled the Seven Kingdoms, on many nights Jaime stood guard outside his sister-wife the queen's bedchambers, he would hear her cry and plea when the Mad King raped her. On those nights, Jaime would cringe, his fingers curling into fists. A true knight would slay a rapist to save the maiden – what if the rapist was the king he'd sworn to protect and the maiden the queen?

Jaime did end up killing Mad King Aerys Targaryen – he slashed his throat. For a good reason of course, but to the rest of the world, he would remain from that day till his very last the Kingslayer. After King Aerys II Targaryen, Jaime remained in the Kingsguard this time serving King Robert. King Robert was no King Aerys, but at night…

"I hope you are not considering to continue your kingslaying career." Jaime hurriedly pulled himself from his train of thought. His green eyes met the queen's grey eyes. Jaime felt his cheeks burn hot as Queen Lyanna Stark continued glancing at him, a smile on her face. _She is so beautiful_. Not attractive as southron beauties like the slender, brown-eyed Lady Margaery Tyrell or one of Ser Edmure Tully's auburn-haired and blue-eyed girls he had with his Ironborn wife Lady Asha Greyjoy. How a trout ended up with a kraken wife still puzzled Jaime. No, Lyanna Stark had a sort of… _wild_ beauty. Even after birthing four children, she had retained a slim figure. She had the long face of the Starks, grey eyes the shade of the rare grey moonstone Jaime's late mother the Lady Joanna owned in her box of jewels (mostly blood red rubies and golden topazes from Jaime's memory) and a long, abundant supply of brown hair that was always unbound and free from the clutches of a jewelled hairnet or a snood.

"You are beautiful," Jaime said before he could stop himself. He loved Lyanna Stark. It wasn't solely because of her beauty. For one, her grey eyes always fascinated him. When he stared into them, he would see determination and strength, none of that delicateness or gentleness frequently found in southron ladies. For another, Lyanna Stark had iron in her bones. Many men and women attempted to break her, some physically whilst others more emotionally – they all failed miserably. For that, Jaime admired her.

Queen Lyanna glanced around. Her royal husband was riding well ahead on his white, old warhorse in the company of Sers Barristan Selmy and Balon Swann; all four children – including her youngest, six year old Prince Steffon – were slowly riding in pairs in the moderate distance between her and the king, under the watchful eye of Jory Cassel, one of the grey cloaks sworn to her; and the royal wheelhouse was behind her, carrying only a few ladies who disdained riding. Jaime knew that one of the disgruntled ladies was his vain and disagreeable twin sister Cersei, wife of Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, Master of Ships and the king's brother.

"No one can hear us," Jaime said soothingly.

"There are eyes and ears everywhere Ser Jaime," the queen muttered. "I hate it. After fifteen years, you'd think I have grown used to the prying nature of court. The lying, the betraying…" She shook her head. "I hate King's Landing. It's the centre of dishonesty. It's such a relief riding to Winterfell – and all due to Lord Jon Arryn's death!"

 _Ser Jaime_. The queen's shield of courtesies had rose. "I have never been to Winterfell, or the North for that matter," Jaime remarked. "It's a pity my first time there is thanks to an old man's death." He almost grinned as the queen shot him a frown. "Lord Arryn was Robert's foster father," she said sternly, "and his good-brother."

Jaime couldn't help but snort. "How can one be a father and a brother?" He chuckled a little as the smallest twinkle appeared in the queen's eyes. "Prince Jon must be happy to see his cousins again," Jaime said casually. "He was fostered at Winterfell for a few years wasn't he, Your Grace?"

The queen nodded. "Five years." She smiled. "When Jon was eight, Robert thought he was too solemn for a boy his age. He thought Jon was too much like Stannis. Robert sent him to Winterfell in hopes Jon would return more wild. He was quite disappointed when Jon came back, as serious and honourable as ever. Robert grew concerned that all of his sons would be stern and sombre. He was so pleased last year when Edric shot down one deer and killed another with Stannis's son Ormund. Edric was ten."

"And young Prince Steffon?"

"Still young. Robert hopes he will be like Edric." Her smile vanished. "All Robert does is drink and hope his sons are like him," she muttered darkly. "I hope my sons are unlike him. I'd rather have three serious sons than three whoring, drunken sons."

"He does not suspect-?"

Queen Lyanna looked at him and grinned. "Robert might think I am his pretty, docile wife," she said, her eyes glittering with triumph, "or even the poor maiden rescued from the tower. He had always been a daydreaming fool, my husband. Did he honestly believe that I would stand in the shadows and allow him to fuck every woman he fancies? What we had done, Jaime, I will never forget. I will treasure that night and remember it. In my drunk husband's eyes, Arya is all Stark like Edric all Baratheon; only we know the truth. Only we know, Jaime. And that is how it will remain."

 _Jaime_. The queen is gone and his lover here. As if confirming it, Lyanna murmured, "It has been so long, Jaime. Days, weeks, months…a night with you is worth gold; five nights with Robert is worth a pile of dung."

Jaime laughed. "You are the only woman I love," he said truthfully.

"This is not the time for declarations of love, Jaime."

"It is when I say it is."

"And you think now, when we are riding towards Winterfell is the right moment? My husband the king is in front of us."

"By quite some distance my lady Lyanna." Lyanna's lips curved into a shy smile. "You like it," Jaime remarked with a chuckle. "You like me calling you my lady."

"It is better than being addressed 'Your Grace' at almost every hour of the day. Except at night time of course." Lyanna shivered. "What Robert calls me…his sweetest flower, a beautiful wolf, his wild maid." She made a noise of disgust. "Do you remember what he'd said on the morning after our wedding night? _I have spent a whole night in the North. It is much warmer than we think_." Her slender fingers curled into fists as she glowered. "Oh, I wanted to slap him for that. I still do. He insulted me; he wounded my honour. He wasn't even _aware_ of the slight."

Jaime did not have the heart to tell her the king had said worse when he was boasting to his brothers and friends. Every time Jaime heard the king compare Lyanna's body to a variety of fruits, he wanted to kill him. It wasn't right for the king to think his queen as a collection of fruits, cuts of meat or other food.

Suddenly, Lyanna's pale lips curved into a vast smile. "There." She pointed to the tall, massive, looming walls in the distance. "We are almost at Winterfell."

* * *

When Jaime rode into the Winterfell courtyard, he felt cold. It was still summer, but it felt more like winter. _If this is summer, I do not want to experience winter_ , Jaime thought, dismounting from his steed when the king did. He looked away as the king – a fat man – vaulted from his warhorse and gallantly helped Lyanna down hers. When Jaime glanced back, he was pleased to note that Lyanna did not look pleased.

"Ned!" the Baratheon king roared joyfully, striding towards the serious Lord Eddard Stark, almost dragging Lyanna with him. Jaime stood silently next to Ser Barristan Selmy and their other sworn brothers of the Kingsguard, watching fast introductions between the Starks and Baratheons being made. The four Stark children were introduced first. At first glance, Jaime thought they were Ser Edmure's growing brood of auburn-haired and blue-eyed children. When each child stepped forward to greet their royal uncle and aunt, Jaime took a closer look. They still looked like Tullys.

The eldest was Robb, a boy of fourteen, with a stocky build, blue eyes and thick Tully red hair; following him was Lady Sansa, Lord and Lady Stark's only daughter who'd also carried the Tully look; then there was eight year old Brandon Stark who was gawping at Jaime and Ser Barristan in awe; and finally little Rickon who was a child.

Lyanna then introduced her own children: Crown Prince Jon, who looked more Stark than his Stark cousins; Prince Edric, the apple of King Robert's eye; wild Princess Arya, a girl of nine; and Prince Steffon who seemed to be trying to stifle a tired yawn.

Jaime's eyes lingered on Princess Arya. Like Lyanna, the princess had a long face, grey eyes and brown hair. She was small and skinny and as enthusiastic to fight with a sword as her brother Prince Edric was. _My child_ , Jaime thought without a spot of guilt. _The king thinks he has one sole daughter when in truth she is mine. It is a miracle Arya looks naught like a Lannister. If she had my green eyes or golden hair, I would be castrated, my cock fed to the dogs and I'd be put through the worst punishments on earth before having my head chopped off. As for Lyanna…_

The thought was too horrifying to imagine.

"Let us get out of this cold," the king declared once Lady Stark spoke to Prince Steffon. Giving the king a deep nod, Lord and Lady Stark led the way into the Great Hall. Taking a good look around at the courtyard, Jaime's eyes met Lyanna's again. It'd warmed Jaime's heart to see Lyanna smile so joyfully. In King's Landing, Lyanna had five different smiles: the gracious smile shown to the courtiers; the kind and gentle smile showered upon the smallfolk; the strained and reluctant smile saved for the king; the tight smile also for the king and his many mistresses; and finally the genuine happy smile reserved for children – her own and others alike – and Jaime. Jaime would give all the gold in Casterly Rock to glimpse that smile again.

As Jaime started following the royal party inside Winterfell's Great Hall, Ser Barristan stopped him. "You will be guarding the Princess Arya and Prince Steffon," the old knight informed Jaime, "for the duration of our stay here. The Starks still remember the Sack of King's Landing as if it happened yesterday. Though Lord Stark remains close to the king, he will not forget him forgiving you when he recommended you be sent to the Wall. The Lord of Winterfell will not forget what your father said either. If you were not a member of the Kingsguard, you wouldn't even be invited."

"What of my lady sister?" Jaime couldn't help ask sarcastically. "She is no knight nor a member of the Kingsguard. Does it mean Lord Stark will ask her to leave?"

Ser Barristan the Bold – more like Ser Barristan the Old – narrowed his blue eyes at Jaime. "Lady Baratheon is representing her husband," he said stiffly. "As you know, Lord Stannis is ruling on the king's behalf back at King's Landing. His lady wife is here with a couple of their children to represent the Baratheons of Storm's End. Lord Stark wouldn't ask them to leave. Ser Jaime, it'll be in your best interest to stay away from the Starks."

"Would it not be in my best interest to prove Lannister loyalty to the king?"

"That is not your purpose, Ser Jaime. Your duty is to serve the king."

"If that is the case Ser Barristan, then why're you assigning me to guarding the king's two _younger_ children? Are you telling me Lord Stark thinks I am foolish enough to kill a prince to pave the way for my sister and her husband to be queen and king?" Jaime was outraged. His pleasant mood had dissipated. "I will never kill children," he hissed at Ser Barristan. "Do you trust me so little?"

"You killed King Aerys II Targaryen," said Ser Barristan flatly. "I have not trusted you for fifteen years. I never did. I had held reservations about you when you were given the white cloak at such a young age."

"Would you have trusted me if I was given the honour at old age?"

Ser Barristan shot him a frown. "You will guard Princess Arya and Prince Steffon," he said again. "The king will want to hunt tomorrow; you will stay here."

Jaime sighed. This situation felt all too familiar to him. Oh yes, the memorable day he was raised to the Kingsguard. It was near the beginning of the Harrenhal tourney and on that night, Jaime was sent back to King's Landing to guard Queen Rhaella and her young son Prince Viserys, depriving him the chance to participate in the tourney _. Why is it that I am always left guarding queens, princes and princesses instead of the king whenever he's on a hunting trip or visiting homes of important lords?_ When the court journeyed to visit the king's relatives in Greenstone, Jaime was assigned to ride next to the wheelhouse. It was humiliating as all his other sworn brothers rode beside and behind the king. Naught about the Greenstone visit was pleasing…with the exception of one spark.

It was the first time Lyanna spoke his name.

Not Kingslayer; not Ser Jaime; and not plain ser.

 _Jaime_.

When Jaime helped Lyanna out of the wheelhouse (she was heavy with child), Lyanna had murmured, "Thank you Jaime." Was it a slip? Jaime had thought so at the time. For a whole half year before, Lyanna Stark had been Her Grace the queen to him. Even during the time he pitied her, in his mind, she would be the queen or Queen Lyanna, never plain Lyanna. He had not dared to think her like that. She was the king's wife – besides a Stark would rather die with all that honour than dally dangerously with a knight.

Or so Jaime had thought.

"Are you ill, Ser Jaime?"

Jaime blinked. His sworn brother Ser Arys Oakheart, was looking at him concerned. "I am fine," Jaime said quickly as their other sworn brothers glanced at him queerly before slowly entering the Great Hall. "If you want to spar, I'll show you just how well I am." Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, snorted and shook his head. "There are no tourneys here," he warned hoarsely. "No jousts, melees or archery contests Kingslayer. Greatjon Umber, Lord of Last Hearth, said once that while we southroners shoot arrows at walls, all them northmen shoot arrows at wildlings. The savage of savages, according to the Greatjon. It is a hunting ground, all of the North. Not just a little forest or two. Who knows? Maybe it will be _you_ Kingslayer who gets the honour of defending our king from the wildlings the day the king decides to go hunting."

At times like this the Blackfish reminded Jaime of one of his sworn brothers that he'd served with in King Aerys's Kingsguard. Ser Oswell Whent, he was. A brilliant fighter Ser Oswell was, with the taste for black humour too. _All my current sworn brothers here fight exceedingly well,_ Jaime reminded himself as he swiftly walked into the Great Hall behind Ser Arys. Ser Barristan the Bold, Ser Brynden the Blackfish, Ser Arys Oakheart, Ser Balon Swann and Ser Garth Greysteel of House Hightower. Another reason the king decided to go to Winterfell was to find a replacement for the deceased Ser Mandon Moore and as it seemed the king had a great fondness for northerners, Moore's replacement was to be a fine swordsman of the North.

Taking a step inside Winterfell's Great Hall, a chill slinked down Jaime's spine. It was not the huge size of it that awed Jaime. He had seen enormous great halls before, like the one at Casterly Rock. It wasn't the grey stone walls covered in Stark banners of grey and white either. Spread in front of Jaime were eight long rows of trestle tables, four to each side of the central aisle and at the other end was a raised platform for the Starks and the honoured noble guests. That shouldn't be surprising. It was the atmosphere, the glow of warmth that circulated in the Great Hall.

Gazing up at the high table, Jaime saw that Lyanna was already seated near the centre at the king's left. She was speaking quietly to Lady Stark who was now holding Lyanna's travelling cloak, a warm mantle of golden cloth sewn with a crowned black stag right in the middle. _She hates that cloak_ , Jaime remembered, silently making his way to the high table to watch _his daughter_ and Prince Steffon. After Lyanna Stark was rescued from the Tower of Joy, she hated everything Targaryen. The colours black and red, dragons, even rubies and the golden harp adorned with a dragon's head. The king was delighted when Lyanna furiously demanded the removal of dragon skulls from the Red Keep's Great Hall. "We don't need the memory of those bloody Targaryens," the king had agreed. He'd then replaced all the dragon skulls with his favourite hunting tapestries. _Now Lyanna dislikes all things Baratheon_ , Jaime mused, standing near the back of the dais where he had good view of Princess Arya, Prince Steffon…and Lyanna. Ser Barristan had never told him not to glance now and then at the beautiful queen. Besides, who was to stop him? _I'd already killed one king_ , Jaime thought darkly. He wanted to shut that memory out; no one would allow him to forget it – not even a tiny morsel of it.

Lyanna turned, as if looking around and her eyes bore into Jaime's. _I'll save you from a night of guard duty,_ her grey eyes promised. They then shifted to Ser Barristan (standing behind the king), Ser Brynden (next to Ser Barristan) and finally at Ser Balon. Jaime had wanted to smile at her so badly. Instead, he looked at his feet and looked back up, giving Lyanna his answer with his green eyes: _thank you_.

In higher spirits then before, Jaime settled in a comfortable position. Unless a band of wildlings planned an invasion into Winterfell's Great Hall, observing duty was a task he, Jaime, was all too familiar with. _What is the point of journeying to Winterfell if all we do is stand and watch? We do that in King's Landing_. Jaime automatically kicked himself in the shin with his right foot. It was his duty to shadow the king or the king's children or even the queen. He was a fool to forget his sworn duties. _This is what love does_ , a voice said in Jaime's head. _This is why knights of the Kingsguard cannot have wives and children. Love is a poison. It can take you away from duty._ Jaime knew it. So many times he was tempted to take Lyanna and escape with her to Essos where they wouldn't need to hide the state of their affection for each other.

It was only a silly dream though. A silly dream concocted by a lover who desired to be one with his true love…who happened to be the queen.

* * *

The great feast began formal, but towards the middle of the night, transformed into a more family-centred extended supper. From his current place at a trestle table close to a door, Jaime was able to stare at Lyanna without fear of being caught – and he sat down a couple of hours ago. He wished he could drink cups of summerwine and Arbor gold like all the lords around him; duty forbade him from drinking even one small cup.

In the first hour, Jaime was part of the procession. Lord Stark led Lyanna towards the raised platform first. For the feast Lyanna had chosen to dress in a heavily embroidered light grey gown with only her wedding ring on her finger and a delicate diadem adorned with small diamonds and onyxes gleamed amidst her torrent of brown hair. Lumbering a couple of steps behind them were the fat King Robert, with Lady Stark on his arm. He was well ahead of Jaime, but Jaime suspected the king's wandering eye already found an attractive serving woman or northerner he planned to fuck later.

After them came the children. Three year old Rickon was first, followed by his cousin, the Stark heir of Moat Cailin who from the back looked more Stark than Rickon. The last Stark boy – Brandon wasn't it? – walked behind them and in front of the red-haired heir of Winterfell who escorted Princess Arya. Jaime almost chuckled as he noticed her hand barely touching her Stark cousin's arm. If Arya _Baratheon_ had her way, she'd be attired in her riding clothes and escaping to the stables (if it was early afternoon), according to Lyanna. On a whim, Jaime wished Princess Arya inherited something from him – even if it was a tiny detail, he would be satisfied. Princess Arya had Lyanna's looks, hair and eye colour and love for horses and horse riding – did she have his dislike for politics at least? _Fool. Arya is a_ girl _. She has no say in politics and court intrigue_. It would've delighted him if she was born a warrior.

Once Robb helped Princess Arya to her seat, Jaime had lost interest. He knew his first task was watching duty – _again_. After a few hours, he would be permitted to sit and dine as long as he did not consume wine. _Why all the fuss?_ Jaime wondered. During festivities at King's Landing Ser Barristan was never so worried about the king's safety. Was it due to the fact that this was their first time at Winterfell? Everyone knew the king thought of Lord Stark as his brother. Surely all this watching duty was not necessary!

However, watching duty wasn't as boring as it used to be. It gave Jaime time to dwell in his memories, even reminisce about Lyanna. One of his favourite recollections was at the beginning when he first saw Lyanna. Another was when she revealed to him that she was with child – _his_ child. "Drink moon tea," Jaime had urged her, "before it is too late. If the king finds out…"

Lyanna had shook her head. "Do you know how many bastards he sired? At least six. I heard he had at least nine, but Lord Varys told me he could confirm six."

"You spoke to the Spider?"

"He _is_ the Master of Whisperers and I was curious. My brother Ned refused to tell me; I had no choice. I already heard about the girl in the Vale before…" Her lips tightened. "It didn't come much as a surprise that he had more, but six! Besides, it would be more um, suspicious, if I request moon tea. If your sister catches wind of it, she will tell the world. She already hates me. If she is not my good-sister, I would have banished her from court. I do enjoy the idea of her the wife of Lord Stannis," she conceded. "Whenever someone's calling her Lady Baratheon, you should see her face Jaime! Scrunched up like a sulky girl who never gets her way. Forgive me for my rudeness Jaime, but I dislike your lady sister as much as she dislikes me."

"You never shy away from the truth my lady…my lady Lyanna…"

Lyanna had then smirked. "Truth hurts more than your sword, Ser Jaime." She looked thoughtful. "Some truths are more pleasant than others though."

"Like what?"

Lyanna did not reply, but her warm smile was enough of an answer.

"…it is a surprise seeing Ser Barristan dance." Jaime snapped back into the present. "I did not know he is such a fine dancer." Jaime glanced around wildly. His gaze fell upon a lady seated a few seats away. She was a member of the court; Jaime recognised her as an acquaintance of sorts to Cersei and she was one of the ladies who sat in the wheelhouse. Jaime wondered what she was doing at Winterfell. Not all the courtiers travelled north – a number of them chose to remain in King's Landing.

"…and he is dancing with the queen too!" the lady said excitedly.

Jaime discreetly followed her gaze. His heart leapt like a mummer soaring high in the air. _Lyarra is dancing with Ser Barristan Selmy_. As Ser Barristan twirled her around, she glanced at Jaime straight in the eye. _Very soon_ , her eyes told him. _A few more minutes and we will dance, Jaime. A few more minutes._ Jaime raised his goblet of ale and nodded. With a smile, he stood up and wandered over to a huddle of pretty northern ladies. He looked at the closest one, a plump and homely woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. She had a small, simple black wolf-shaped brooch pinned against her chest. "My lady, do you care to dance?" Jaime asked politely.

The northern lady smiled and stood up. "And you are-?"

"Ser Jaime Lannister my lady-?"

The lady's smile did not change when Jaime mentioned his name. "Lady Jonelle Stark, Ser. I am Lord Benjen's wife and the daughter of Lord Cerwyn." She took Jaime's hand. "I thought you would be guarding the king, Ser Jaime."

"Ser Garth Greysteel has the honour of it for the next few hours," Jaime responded. "It will be my turn to guard him…very soon." He led Lady Jonelle to the dance floor and met Lyanna's gaze again. _Very soon_ , her grey eyes promised again.

"It must be hard not being allowed to fall in love," Lady Jonelle remarked, "nor able to have or acknowledge children. My husband planned to join the Night's Watch before he was persuaded to visit Castle Cerwyn. Now and then I would tease and inquire if he'd be taking the black anytime soon. He said he could never abandon our children. Lyarra and Arrana," she added, nodding in the direction of the cluster of Stark children and princes and princess who were seated beneath the raised platform, "and Edwyle. Did you have a true love before you were given the white cloak, Ser Jaime?"

 _I have one now_. "I was about to be betrothed to Lady Stark's sister," Jaime said civilly. He did not expect to be having this conversation with a complete stranger. "Sadly, I was more interested in listening to the Blackfish's wartime stories than conversing with the Lady Lysa." He was glad now that he didn't marry the hysterical Lady Lysa, widow of the deceased Lord Jon Arryn.

"Is it your first time at Winterfell?"

Obviously. "Yes." Jaime twirled Lady Jonelle around and noticed Lyanna was dancing with Ser Brynden Tully now. _Not long now_. "Have you been to King's Landing my lady?"

"No, Ser. I have not taken a step out of the North."

"Have you travelled to places in the North then my lady?"

"Winterfell of course, and Moat Cailin, my husband's seat. I visited Deepwood Motte, Torrhen's Square…" She chattered on like a southron lady as Jaime slowly tuned out, an excellent skill he developed on the nights he was charged with guarding the king's door to his bedchamber. The last thing Jaime wanted was to listen to the moans and groans of the king's never ending stream of whores.

The song ended and Jaime bowed stiffly to Lady Jonelle who smiled and was asked to dance by a very fat man, bald and with a large walrus moustache. He was attired in blue-green clothes with a white merman with dark green hair, bear and tail, carrying a black trident emblazoned proudly on his large chest. Jaime looked around, wondering if it was time to ask Lyanna to dance or to select another dance partner. Fortunately, Lyanna had ended her dance with the Blackfish and came up to him. "Ser Jaime," she greeted, a smile hovering on her lips. "Will you dance with me?"

"I thought it is my duty to ask you first," Jaime couldn't help saying.

"I'm the queen. I can ask any of you to dance. _Dance with me_." Jaime obeyed. Within a second or two, the musicians struck a new song and Jaime spun Lyanna around. "Robert is eyeing that lady you danced with," Lyanna muttered under her breath, her sharp eyes darting here and there. She squinted at Lady Jonelle. "Is that not Benjen's wife? Last that I heard from her was a few months after Arya was born. She congratulated me and said I was blessed by the old gods for giving my husband two sons and a daughter. She said to me that she was pregnant too. Odd that I remember the letter. Usually I'd have forgotten about it…" She gave Jaime a reminiscent smile. "Perhaps it's because I was so happy that I could hold the fruit of our love in my arms…and to punish Robert of course. Not that he would suspect anything, my oaf of a husband. I sometimes wish we'd have a daughter or a son with your brilliant green eyes, Jaime. I could tell Robert and the court that the boy or girl inherited it from my father's grandmother Lady Melantha Blackwood, but deep in my heart, I would cherish my _Lannister_ green-eyed child."

"What would you name our green-eyed child?"

"If I was feeling generous, perhaps Cassana, as Estermonts have green eyes too. Not a bit like your emerald green eyes Jaime, but another shade of green. If a boy…"

"I want to take you away Lyanna…away from Westeros…"

Lyanna was quiet for a moment. "That was what Rhaegar had said to me," she said at last, more softly than before. "After the Harrenhal tourney, he said he whould whisk me away from my betrothal to Robert, and away from court intrigue. I was a fool, Jaime. I'd thought Rhaegar Targaryen would truly help me. What he did bled the Seven Kingdoms, almost ended his own House and caused all of us pain and suffering. When he locked me in that damned tower, he told me that he put the best of the Kingsguard knights outside for my protection." She made a face. "He said he was a fool for marrying Elia Martell – it was I who was destined to give him children, or so he said."

"You are safe now, my lady Lyanna."

"Safe married to a man who has another wife?"

"The king?" Jaime was puzzled. "He doesn't have another wife."

Lyanna laughed bitterly. "His _wine_ , Ser Jaime. Robert's married more to his wine than to me. He certainly spends more time with it! What does he do when he first wakes up? I can tell you it is not greeting me."

"Leave him," said Jaime impulsively. "Leave him Lyanna. Casterly Rock has enough ah gold to last our entire lives in Essos."

"No," said Lyanna gently. "That is the easy way out, Jaime. If we do run away, we'll be forever known as the cowardly and desperate lovers."

"I am already known as the Kingslayer. Another name is naught for me."

"And everyone already knows me as the maiden who caused Robert's war. A splendid pair we make, Jaime! The man who'd slew the Mad King and the woman who caused the war." Lyanna shook her head. "I love you Jaime, but running away? Robert will have our heads. We will never be safe in Essos. He will send men after us and drag me back to this prison. You will be executed and Robert will blame you for kidnapping me. Do you know that having me as his wife is not enough?"

"What do you mean?"

Lyanna scowled. "He wants more than one Stark-Baratheon connection. He wants our Jon to marry Sansa Stark, Ned's daughter. What benefits would it bring?"

"Don't think about politics," murmured Jaime. "This dance is nearly over."

"The dance is never over Jaime. When we were children, we were pawns; we are still pawns now. Puppets even, always dancing to the tune of others. Are you not tired Jaime, of dancing as the Kingslayer?"

Jaime was silent. He had already embraced that name for years. "Do you know what it is that made me fall in love with you?" he said, changing the subject.

Lyanna smiled a little indulgently. "What? Robert ignoring me?"

"Partially," acceded Jaime, "but it was your grey eyes. Wolf eyes, I thought them."

"You fell in love with my _eyes?_ "

"Our eyes spoke more to each other, Lyanna. Every time we speak, our eyes speak ten times more. Your Stark grey eyes to my green. Forgive my boldness, my lady queen, but when our eyes first met, I was not fooled. You showed the court graciousness; I saw fear. The two men who claimed your heart betrayed you. One with cruelty and the other with lies. I swear to you by the old gods and new my lady Lyanna, I will never betray you."

To Jaime's surprise, a tear the size of a tiny pearl danced in Lyanna's right eye.

"What is it?" said Jaime, instantly concerned.

"So many men said those words to me," whispered Lyanna, hurriedly letting go of his hand to wipe away that tear. "All those silly young northern boys who vied for my hand, Rhaegar and Robert." She chuckled. "Is it not strange that all of my suitors have names beginning with R? There was Roose Bolton, Robett Glover and others…yet I love you the most, and you are charged with the duty of guarding my husband!"

Jaime laughed. To his dismay, the musicians were nearing the end of the song. Lyanna could not dance with him all night – not even a second time to protect herself from eagle eyed watchers whose delights were gossiping and spreading rumours.

"There is not much time," said Lyanna suddenly. "As we probably won't be able to see each other as much during our stay here, I must tell you." She lowered her voice. "I have forgotten to mention this to you numerous times. Arya may have inherited my desire to learn to fight. Perhaps if you want to spend some time with your daughter, offer to teach her to fight with a sword."

" _What?_ "

Lyanna's eyes gleamed. "I caught her trying to spar with a stick," she explained as the musicians struck the last few chords. "She might like to learn to fight with a sword. Sers Barristan Selmy and Brynden Tully would refuse to teach her. Honourable men, both of them. So honourable they will not teach a girl to fight."

Jaime released her hand and bowed as the musicians played the final note. "I will try and teach her," he promised softly.

"Thank you Jaime." Almost immediately, Lyanna was asked to dance by Ser Balon. He led her into a dance and Lyanna's grey eyes met Jaime's again. _I love you_ , they seemed to say to him. _I love you Ser Jaime Lannister_.

"I love you too," Jaime murmured softly, gazing at her for the final time before slowly returning to his seat. He still had an hour or two before it was his turn to guard the king during the night. "I love you and I always will, my lady Lyanna."

* * *

 **This is the long awaited oneshot to Clary Sage's prompt - Lyanna/Jaime onshot in Jaime's POV with Lyanna not in love with either Rhaegar or Robert. Set during 298-299 AC with Arya as Lyanna and Jaime's daughter.**

 **I found it interesting to write and more of a challenge than previous oneshots as I personally didn't have much practice writing Jaime POVs in other stories and Lyanna is well, dead in canon. I actually started writing the oneshot a day or two after I posted Sun and Snow, but rewrote it and then rewrote it again. Still not completely satisfied with the final product, but I liked it more than the previous two versions.**

 **As their aren't that many major changes in the Great Houses, I decided not to post an appendix, but Clary Sage, if you really want me to, I'll upload it and add it on.**


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